


What Can't Be Replaced

by Saifa



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Art Trade, Fluff, Frans - Freeform, Gen, One Shot, Suzume (Frisk), Suzume - Freeform, Undertale AU, YureiTale, Yuu (Sans), Yuu - Freeform, more platonic than romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 18:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14503299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saifa/pseuds/Saifa
Summary: Tonight is the star festival at Suzume's village. She and Yuu decide to go together and enjoy it. However, someone from Yuu's past approaches him, turning the night to one of anguish.





	What Can't Be Replaced

**Author's Note:**

> This is my part of a fic-art trade I did with tumblr user HikariCotta, creator of YureiTale. She sent me a drabble of a story idea and I attempted to recreate with my spin on it. I'm incredibly pleased with how this turned out, especially considering this is only the second AU and work I've written for overall that strays from my realm of canon. I've never done a fic trade before. Writing this tailored specifically to Hikari and researching her AU allowed me surprising amounts of creativity.
> 
> Many thanks to Hikari for agreeing to this art trade. I hope you like it and that I did your AU some bit of justice.

           Besides the late summer singing of insects, all was quiet in the forest. It was her home now and Suzume enjoyed the walks she would take with Yuu after the sun sank behind the trees and hills. The night was cool, the air was crisp, and a wealth of fireflies illuminated the darkest corners of the forest.

           Suzume raised her eyes to a gap in the canopy of leaves and strong, old branches. She gasped and stopped in awe. It was a moonless night and a rich, hazy band of stars stretched across the inky blackness. Separate from the band, stars were strung like a net of crystal beads to adorn the skies. Yuu watched her quietly. He smiled warmly at her as she marveled at the sight. He had grown to love the little gestures she made. Though her voice struggled to overcome the trickle of the gentlest stream, he found she had much to say even if she didn’t know it herself. Most of all, she was kind. Kindness never needed a voice.

           She lifted her hand with fingers outstretched. This cold light felt so close to her, but she couldn’t get past the canopy. It was memory that brought her to the stars though. She wanted to pluck out a bead from the celestial strings as she thought of her village. Tonight was the star festival and she longed to go. She never was able to before. A childhood marked with war and famine robbed her of that opportunity. When the earth crumbled and slipped beneath her feet on the day she died—when she learned of the finality of her fate _—_ she wondered if enjoying a mortal celebration was ever meant for her.

           “What are you thinking of, Suzumushi?” Yuu asked. He saw a glimmer of sadness in her wondering eyes. It was fleeting, but its short existence didn’t negate its meaning. He wanted to ease that pain. She was a dear friend of his after all.

           Suzume looked at him. She didn’t want to impose this burden she wore, but she knew Yuu would do anything to see her smile. All she wanted from him was to make her laugh. He was good at that. With his laid back demeanor and occasional mischievous tricks, he knew how to ease the hurt in anyone. She knew he would want to know what was on her mind though. It couldn’t hurt to tell him. She overlapped her hands over her chest, then pointed at the sky. Her eyes were bright and hopeful. She beckoned to him.

           Yuu’s eyelights burned with curiosity. He leaned to her so she could whisper. Whatever it was, he resolved to fulfil her wish. He recognized the longing in her eyes. He recognized it was a matter of what could have been, something he was all too familiar with. It resonated deep inside him, and he remembered the anguish he felt for his brother. They were both denied the love and future they deserved, but Masaru most of all. He wondered what Suzume was denied.

           “My village’s star festival,” she said softly. Her words were like a gentle breeze. She placed her hands over her chest again and smiled at him.

           “Ya don’t say?” Yuu grinned as he considered a thought. He knew the customs of the star festival from his mortal life. Humans would write wishes on slips of paper, then hang them on bamboo sticks so they could reach heaven. Then they would light lanterns to guide spirits of those passed to the afterlife. He never went to such a festival either. He had to admit the thought was enticing. This was something he could do.

           Suzume knew Yuu enough to recognize when he had something in mind. His eyelights had a particular glow to them, cool in color and burning like the stars above. Perhaps this was why she felt at home when she looked at him. Long after her mortal home abandoned her and became a memory, after she wandered the demon forest and saw the canopy smother the stars out of sight, she found herself looking to Yuu for comfort when nothing else could. As a child she remembered when she would look to the night and wish to the heavens. When everything was taken from her, when she lost her voice, when violence and hunger staked its claim of being an ever present force in her life, the stars served as a calming constant. Yuu was her constant now.

           “Turn around and cover your eyes, alright?”

           She heard the smile in his voice. It wasn’t the same as the one he always wore. His voice was warm and genuine, and it filled her with curiosity. Suzume turned her back to him and buried her face in her hands. She jokingly turned and opened her fingers a crack

           “No peeking!” Yuu teased. “Otherwise you won’t get to see the surprise.”

           Suzume giggled and closed the gap. Her laughter was akin to the gentle bubbling of a stream.

           “So, how about this…” Yuu raised a hand with his palm facing the sky. His eye ignited with magic. A small, pale blue bead of light formed and kindled into a flickering flame. It grew as he concentrated. The forest’s shadows burned away and retreated behind the rocks and into the thicket. The rest took refuge in the long shadows their bodies cast against the light.

           Between the cracks of her fingers and through her eyelids, Suzume saw the cool, shining light. She opened her eyes but kept her fingers shut so she could see the small glimpses of Yuu’s magic. She had seen Yuu perform his illusionary magic before, mostly to trick and terrorize humans who wandered into the forest. This time, however, this spell felt special. It was meant for her.

           The flame grew to its peak brightness and breath. Yuu let it spread up his arm and to the rest of his body. He became dressed in flame, but it did not consume. The silhouette of a phantom body slowly overshadowed his form and claimed its place. “You can look now. What do ya think?”

           Suzume opened her fingers a crack and turned to look at him. She gasped and her hands fell away. A man wearing Yuu’s clothes stood before her. His hair was long and white like starlight. He wore it in a ponytail with bangs covering his eyes. A short beard grew along his jaw and chin. In the dimness of the forest, she saw the calm eyelights she had come to know were now piercing, like sunlight striking water, and glacier blue. They were clear like a calm river one could see the bottom of on a sunny day. She felt Yuu’s gaze look into her and her cheeks flushed. She reached out to touch his face, but stopped short with her fingers inches away.

           An amused smile formed on his lips. “I’ll go with you to keep you company, cricket,” he said. His smile turned warm as he blushed. He always hated the idea of wearing a human form. He detested them for their endless cruelties. That is until he met Suzume. Now, all he wanted was to see her smile. “I’m also interested in seeing that human village of yours. How does that sound to ya?”

           Suzume beamed. She grabbed Yuu’s arm and held him tightly. She rested her head on his shoulder in gratitude and giggled. Never would she have guessed he had this in mind. To know he was willing to go with her to fulfill a wish she never had a chance to do in her mortal life, it was a comfort. Of all her time in the forest with Yuu, tonight would be another beaded memory she would collect and cherish.

           Flustered, Yuu glanced away. He was overwhelmed by her sudden excitement and affection. Still, seeing Suzume smile was worth it. He chuckled to himself and grinned at her. “What are we waiting for? Let’s get going.”

           It was a short walk to the outskirts of the forest. The small village sat nestled in a clearing with the thicket surrounding it on all but one side. People gathered outside the weathered huts. Their faces were lit by lantern light. From a distance the lanterns looked like fireflies as they lit the village with warm yellow light.

           To the humans, Suzume and Yuu were travelers from a neighboring village. Though small, the festivities were lively. Music was all around as children ran while playing with wooden toys. Somen noodles and sweets were being shared and people lined up to hang their wishes on the bamboo. Yuu crossed his arms as he leaned against a hut. The scene was humble but wealthy with joy.

           “Looks like we’re not alone, huh, cricket?” Yuu grinned, gesturing to some minor demons playing amongst the children.

           Suzume smiled softly as she looked past their illusionary forms. Seeing them put her at ease, as if it was a sign granting her permission to exist in this space she once called home. If she could exist here, so could Yuu. She turned to him and pointed at the wishes hanging from the bamboo. She then pointed to him.

           “Do I have a wish?” he voiced the question for her. “Nah,” he chuckled. “I already got mine. What about you, Suzumushi?”

           Suzume’s smile grew shy. She averted her eyes and looked down at the ground, then shook her head. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, then lifted her gaze to beam at him. She already got her wish too.

           The two turned when they heard a desperate cry.

           “Kasuki!” a woman’s voice gasped in disbelief. She appeared from the dancing crowd who were enthralled with the music. Trembling, she slowly walked towards them with her hand outstretched. “My boy, it is you!” she said tearfully. Her hands flew to her mouth as she choked back a sob. The festival goers were oblivious to her despair. “My dear, sweet boy.”

           Suzume looked to Yuu. She grew worried when she saw the dark expression he wore. His silence was tense and uncharacteristic of him. Deep down, a twinge of fear resonated within her when she saw the harshness in his face. She recognized the hate and anguish his eyes held. He was drowning in it. She had seen it many times before in the eyes of men during the war and famine. She saw it when the samurai came to her village and chased after her in her dreams. This wasn’t the Yuu she knew.

           The woman dropped to her knees in front of him. She grabbed his kimono tightly. Her eyes welled with tears. “Have you returned to haunt me?” She looked into his eyes, searching for a sign of the boy she lost and begging for him to come back. “I wouldn’t blame you. I know I deserve it, but if you could find it within your heart to forgive me—”

           Yuu flinched and his face twisted with fury. How dare she ask for such a thing from him. His own mother allowed that devil of a man to toss them down that well. Their father wore a cold visage and never regarded either of them with an iota of love. They were refuse, another inconvenient problem to be disposed of. Masaru had died in his arms as he hugged him tightly. Winter’s frost crept in his veins and seeped into his bones before he drew his last breath. It was an agonizing death and the season showed no mercy much like his father. He pushed her off of him and glared down at her. She had to pay. Not for him, but for Masaru. At least he had a chance to experience the world, though short-lived it was. He wanted her to know, to remember, every chance she stole from his brother even if it was not by her hand.

           “I prayed for you,” she said, choking sobs back. “I wished happiness for you in heaven. Both for you and your brother. I wished we could meet again there, yet here you are… You and Yamato…” She gasped and tears brimmed at her eyes.

           “Do not speak his name,” Yuu shouted through gritted teeth. “You lost that right the moment you abandoned us.”

           A man ran up to them. His eyes fell upon Yuu and flickered with fear. Behind him stood a young boy who looked like Yuu, but younger. His hair was long and black, but his eyes were big and round. They were a smooth caramel and filled with innocence.

           “Haru,” the man whispered harshly to the boy. “Get back. Quickly.” Haru shuffled backwards towards the dancing villagers. The man stared Yuu down and his shoulders tensed as he looked to his wife. “Have you come back for vengeance?” he asked. “I have no more children. I will not let you steal away what is mine when I had to do what was necessary. Go on. Take your other form and leave this place. Vengeful spirit of the child once mine, I reject you once more.”

           Yuu laughed bitterly. It was all he could do, for his throat was too tight with fury to form words. Their parents replaced them. They replaced Masaru. He was furious and grieved for his brother. If it wasn’t for the love he had for him, his anger would have consumed him whole long ago. He remembered how much he detested humans for all their cruelties and willingness to hurt for their temporary gain. He wanted to cast off this human form and set it aflame. How desperately he wanted to wear winter’s face and show their wicked hearts the bites frost left.

           Suzume gasped sharply. This was not Yuu. He was drowning in his rage. His illusion faded quickly like a spectre chased away by lantern light. His eye ignited with magic and blue flames burned at the tips of his horns as if they were candles. His fangs glimmered in the night. Yuu’s smile was one dressed in anguish as he glared down at his mother.

           His mother looked up at him with wide eyes. Between the horror she felt of what had become of her son and her despair of having a hand in it, she remained in place. She was resolute in accepting whatever requited vengeance she deserved.

His father screamed and turned to run, catching the attention of the other villagers. The dancing stopped and the music twanged to silence. All eyes were on them and a commotion erupted as the men made a mad scramble for weapons and the women and children dashed into their huts.

           Chaos was descending around them. The men raised their tools used to work in the fields. Suzume pressed her back against the hut’s wall. Her eyes darted in search for an escape. She had to get Yuu back to the forest. She had to save him from his drowning. She had to make him remember the peace he felt before when they were alone together in the forest. The pattern of fireflies on her kimono gave off a dull glow and slowly grew brighter. She raised her arms and they scattered into the air to surround her and Yuu. Their light pulsed and outshined the village, blinding all its inhabitants. Under its cover, Suzume reached for Yuu and whisked him back to the forest. The shouting and cries of terror grew fainter the further they got until they were only a memory. The lanterns of the village were pinpricks of light that wavered, then extinguished as the night aged.

           Under the safety of the ancient canopy, the two settled by a stream . Yuu remained quiet, his eyelights dim. The last of his magic faded to wisps of energy like puffs of blue smoke carried away by the wind. His fangs receded and his smile was rigid. He sat with his back turned to her as he stared into the water.

           Suzume sat beside him and squeezed his shoulder. She couldn’t stand to see him hurting. Even more, she placed blame on herself. If she hadn’t wished to see the star festival, if she had only kept her gaze grounded, she could have spared him this deep pain.

           He turned to see her tearful eyes. “You have nothing to be sorry for, cricket.” He cracked a saddened, heartfelt grin and sighed. “Some night, huh?”

           His gaze was full of apologies he couldn’t bring himself to say yet. Suzume pointed to him and shook her head. She didn’t need a single one.

           “Thanks, Suzumushi,” Yuu said weakly. He sighed and returned his gaze to the stream.  “If anything, I’m more upset for Masaru,” he said quietly. “They tossed him away, then had the nerve to have another child? What kind of mother replaces her child like that?” he spat. Bitterness coiled around his words. “We’re just a distasteful memory they tried to forget.”

           Suzume tugged on his sleeve and shook her head.

           “What?” he asked in disbelief. “You think otherwise?”

           Suzume overlapped her hands over her chest and stared into his eyes sorrowfully.

           “If that’s a mother’s love according to you, she has a funny way of showing it,” he said incredulously. He fell silent when Suzume refused to look away. He watched her gesture, taking in her subtle and delicate movements, and remembered what he loved about her. She was trying to show him the possibility of what he couldn’t see, or rather what he refused to. Yuu spoke slowly as he interpreted her meaning. “You saw a mother who still loved her sons dearly.”

           Suzume held a finger up to his mouth before he could protest. She pointed at the stars, then to him. “Happiness,” she whispered. Her words rose above the insect songs. She held up a finger on each hand and held them together, then embraced herself.

           “You think her wishing to meet again in some afterlife was genuine? I’m not as optimistic as you on that count.” Yuu shook his head. He wanted this night to end. He wanted to forget the face of their new son. He couldn’t bare the thought of telling Masaru. It was all bitterly unfair. They took everything from his brother, but deemed this child worthy of future and possibilities. What made Haru so different aside from favor and circumstance?

           A rustling from the thicket caught their attention. In the darkness, Yuu made out the figure of a woman. She stepped forward into the starlight, her body trembling terribly as she watched them. She wiped a tear with her sleeve and gave Yuu a pained smile. “I did wish for your happiness,” she said in a small voice.

           Yuu grit his teeth, but Suzume rose before he could react to his mother. He watched Suzume step towards her, confused at what his friend was trying to achieve.

           His mother pulled a slip of paper from her kimono and presented it to Suzume. “Please, give this to him for me. It is my wish that he and his brother be happy in whatever realm they reside in and that they are free from burdens. If it resides wherever my sons are, it has to become true.” She smiled weakly at Suzume, then bit her lip as she considered her words. She looked to Yuu with a weathered gaze. “I know you hate me. It’s okay.”

           Yuu saw the deep lines on her face. Since when did she look so old? The last he saw her, she was youthful and bright. Despite her husband’s coldness towards her and her children, she wore a smile with warmth back then. War, famine, and grief had left their mark on her, but he had refused to see it before.

           “Perhaps someday you’ll come and find me,” his mother began with new hope in her voice. “I’d love to hear all about your new life, whether you’re happy…”

           Yuu remained silent. He showed no acknowledgement to her words. He looked at the rocks sitting in the bubbling stream and the water flowing around them. He didn’t understand what his mother hoped to gain from this. He felt a rekindled relationship with her was out of the question as long as that devil of a man and her other son lived. Whether it was possible under the right circumstances was dubious enough to begin with. But if seeing him was all she wanted, to give this wish of hers to him in peace, to show she never stopped thinking of him and Masaru, then he would let her by.

           Yuu’s mother turned to Suzume again. “Thank you for caring for my son,” she said. She bowed before taking one final look at Yuu, then left from whence she came.

           Suzume looked at the slip of paper in her hands. The words were written neatly in ink and had long dried. She knelt beside Yuu and smiled softly at him. Despite everything, his mother tried her best while trapped in circumstance. She hoped Yuu saw that. She tried to pass the wish to him, but he shook his head.

           “You keep it for now,” he said. “I trust you with it more than anyone.” He couldn’t bare to take it. Not yet. He was still too angry to forgive, too raw to see clearly or think straight. Forget what he felt for himself. He hurt too much for Masaru. Spending time like he usually did was the best thing he could do.

           Suzume interrupted his thoughts by leaning against his shoulder. She rested her head and held onto his sleeve. “I’m glad...we met in death...together” she said softly. Her voice warbled as she struggled to continue. “I’m glad...you’re here…”

           Yuu chuckled. He rested his head against hers. “I’m glad we met too, cricket.”


End file.
